


saving you, saving me

by kinneyb



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Everything is consensual, M/M, Rich Sad Lonely Eliot Waugh, sex worker Quentin Coldwater
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-05 22:17:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19049545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneyb/pseuds/kinneyb
Summary: Quentin isn't a victim. He's just a man with a job, and it's not terrible. He has Julia, at least, and a few other friends(?). But then he meets the rich, sad, lonely, insanely handsome Eliot Waugh.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is a queliot sex worker au that im just doing for fun on the side so... expect short but frequent updates
> 
> also there will be NO r*pe elements or non-con stuff i mean q isnt always enthusiastic but he consents and if he didnt penny would beat the perpetrator's ass
> 
> ★ please follow me on twitter @ queermight & check out my pinned tweet! ★

Quentin opened the heavy metal door, slipping through easily.

"Q?" Julia was at the front desk with Marina and Kady, looking as beautiful as ever in a flowing blue dress and white heels. She smiled when they made eye contact, eyes sparkling with love and adoration. "I thought - I thought you said you were quitting," she crossed the room, stopping in front of him. Her smile faltered a bit. "Is everything okay?"

He took a sharp breath, clutching at the handle of his messenger bag. If Julia noticed, she didn't say anything.

"I - I keep applying for jobs, but nothing's - " he gestured aimlessly. He sighed, looking away. "You know."

He didn't need to see Julia's face to know what kind of expression she was wearing. It was probably something kind and understanding, knowing maybe. That was Julia for you. Frankly if one of them should be quitting, it should be her. She was pretty and smart - she could be, _do_ anything she wanted. But she stayed, and Quentin knew it wasn't because of the job. It was more likely for the people. Like the two pretty women still lingering at the desk.

"Well," Julia touched his shoulder, gentle and sweet. "Penny was just requested, but... maybe we can see if the customer is willing to switch?" she grinned a bit. "We can say Penny came down with something less than sexy."

Kady barked a laugh from way across the room. That woman had always had insanely good hearing.

"Maybe," Quentin rocked back and forth on his heels. "Who's the customer?"

Julia hummed lightly, touching a finger to her chin thoughtfully. "He's new," she said. "But he's handsome."

Quentin raised an eyebrow, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "If he's handsome, why would he be _here?_ " he asked; an honest question. "Great, so he's probably a serial killer."

"I don't think so," Marina said, also from across the room. Quentin winced; did women just have better hearing? Was that a thing? "I didn't recognize him." Her eyes sparkled. "But he _is_ handsome," she added, unhelpfully.

Quentin didn't look at her. "Right, Marina, because your obsession with serial killers is so comforting."

"True crime," Kady interjected for her. "There's a difference."

Julia giggled, a soft, sweet sound that made Quentin almost not regret coming back. Because sure, the job wasn't always rainbows and ice cream, but at least he had Julia. And sure, Marina could be creepy as fuck. But she was surprisingly loyal to her friends. Kady, too. Penny was kind of an asshole, but he had protected Quentin that one time from a client who toed the line of stalker. So he was good in his books.

"Go ahead," Quentin sighed eventually, walking over to the desk. He dropped his bag on the floor by Marina's feet. "I really do need the money. Rent is due in a week."

Julia frowned, staring at him. "I told you we could share a place," she mumbled, eyes soft and it was almost too much to bear.

"I love you, Jules," he walked back over and took one of her hands, squeezing. "But we're both adults, and this... job doesn't give us a lot of time _alone_. We deserve our own places to go home to at the end of a long day."

She squeezed his hand back, kissing his cheek. "I guess. I'll go reschedule things. Be right back."

Then, she was gone.

Quentin walked back over and leaned against the desk. Marina was staring at him, chin in her hand, eyes sparkling. He rolled his eyes. _"What?"_ he asked gruffly.

"Oh, nothing," Marina said, pursing her red lips. "Just - you lucky dog. You're going to get to fuck _that_."

Quentin scoffed, looking away. He stared down at his feet. "It's not like we're having sex for fun, Marina," he said sharply.

"Of course not," Marina replied breezily. "But still, it's better a hot guy than some old geezer, right?"

Kady nudged Marina with her elbow, giving her a pointed look. Suddenly, Quentin was thankful for the dark haired woman because he really did _not_ want to have this conversation. Marina leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest. "Fine, fine," she grumbled. "Just trying to help."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> told yall - short but frequent updates ;)

Julia gave him the room number, and Quentin headed for the stairs, ignoring Marina’s shouts of “ _have a good time!_ ” and “ _use protection!_ ” as if he hadn’t been doing this for a long time, much longer than her.

He ran into Alice when he reached the top of the stairs. She had just finished if the current state of her hair was any indication, messy and sticking up in odd places. He smiled, a bit fond, as she straightened her back and tried fixing her hair.

“Hi, Quentin,” she greeted, friendly but polite. That was Alice’s default, really. She was always nice, but Quentin didn’t really consider her a friend. She was too guarded, a bit detached. He suspected she wanted it that way.

He smiled politely, careful not to look too long at the marks on her neck. “Having a good night?”

“I - ” she cleared her throat. “Yes.”

And that was that, really. Quentin went to walk around her, and was surprised when she grabbed his arm, gentle but firm. He looked at her curiously. “Is everything okay?” he asked, his instincts jumping to _oh no, maybe her client_ -

But she just smiled, small and surprisingly sincere. “Are _you?_ ” she asked, uncharacteristically soft. “I - I know you wanted out of this,” she hesitated, “ _business_.” She let go of his arm. “Did something happen?”

He blinked. Once, twice. Then, he sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Not exactly,” he answered truthfully. “Just - I needed money. And fun fact? Finding a fucking job in New York City isn’t easy.”

She frowned, and it was weird. Having a conversation with her that lasted longer than, like, thirty seconds. “Well, I hope things work out for you,” she said eventually.

He nodded curtly, doing a little finger wave as he backed up. “Thanks.” Without missing a beat, he turned and quickly walked to the last door on the left.

It was one of the better rooms. Larger, _cleaner_. Also drawers full of, well, toys. Always cleaned after every session. But Julia had been very clear that his customer hasn’t requested anything like that.

Thank God, really, because he just wasn’t in the mood. He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.

He knocked on the door, once.

After an almost deafening minute of silence (seriously, _what_ was the guy doing?), he finally got a reply. “Come in.”

Quentin startled. That was - _something_. The guy’s voice was like honey, smooth as butter. He shivered despite himself and opened the door.

He was, well, shocked but also not that the guy sitting on the edge was fucking _gorgeous_. He was shocked simply because guys like that rarely came _here_ , but Marina and the others had been very clear about his looks. He was lean, not very muscular, with dark curls pushed out of his face and beautiful eyes. He looked like your average wet dream.

He also looked, surprisingly, nervous.

Quentin smiled, all fake sweetness, and approached the man, stopping a foot or two in front of him. He looked up at him, then, and smiled sheepishly.

“Hi.”

Quentin shifted his weight. “Hi. Do you want me to shower first?” he asked, pointing to a door that contained the bathroom. “I mean, I’m pretty clean already, but some guys prefer, you know - ” he shrugged, trailing off.

The man cringed, looking to the floor. “Uh. You’re fine,” he said after a long moment. “I’m Eliot, by the way.”

Quentin smiled, a bit more sincere because sure, he hated having to do this, but even he couldn’t deny there was something charming about the man. _Eliot_ , his mind supplied breezily. “I’m Q,” he said, gingerly sitting on the bed beside him. Eliot gave him a curious look, and he just smiled wider. “Sorry, no real names are given here. For obvious reasons.”

Eliot laughed, once, looking away. “Right, of course.” He was fidgety, which just looked… _wrong_ on him somehow. Quentin was the fidgeting type, not handsome, well dressed men like Eliot. His nose twitched. “Should I have used a fake name, too?”

“You’re good,” Quentin replied easily, nudging him with his elbow. He didn’t miss the way the simple, innocent action made Eliot shiver. _Huh_. “You’re my customer. I’d be stupid to do anything to betray you.”

Eliot nodded curtly. “Of course,” he replied tersely. Wow, the guy was tense. Quentin laid a hand on his thigh, and he looked at him, eyes wide. “I - I should probably admit I’ve never done this before and this is not my usual scene.”

“ _All_ the guys say that,” Quentin replied, half teasing. “Look, you’re fine. Just tell me what you want. It’s that simple.” He smiled, a bit robotic. “This is a service after all, Eliot. You are the customer, you call the shots.”

Eliot stared down at Quentin’s hand on his thigh. “I - okay.”

Pleased with himself, because half his job was making his clients feel comfortable, Quentin squeezed Eliot’s thigh, gentle but firm. “So Eliot,” he breathed, “what _do_ you want?”


	3. Chapter 3

Eliot blinked slowly. "I - I don't know," he answered honestly.

"Oh." Quentin sat up straighter. "Okay," he continued breezily. "Well, we can just - " he gestured vaguely. "And see what happens."

Eliot looked away and sighed heavily, covering his face with his hands. "God," he said, almost a whisper. "What the fuck am I doing?"

Quentin had seen clients have very similar reactions before. He was, unsurprisingly, never very good at comforting them. "You're paying for sex," he replied, going for his usual blunt approach. "Unless you're no longer interested," he shifted on the bed, "you know where the door is, but no refunds, buddy."

He felt oddly relieved when Eliot laughed airily, pulling his hands away from his face. "I - okay," he said, shaking his head a few times. "It's just... I..." he pursed his lips. "Can I really ask for anything?"

"Uhh," Quentin narrowed his eyes. "Within reason." He drummed his fingers on his thigh. "Just nothing that hurts me on, like, a permanent level." He remembered his conversation from earlier with Julia. "Oh, and you didn't pay for anything but sex. The boring vanilla kind, you know." He shrugged casually. "You'll be charged more for anything kinkier."

Eliot looked at him in a way that almost made Quentin want to shiver. "I'm sure you can tell I do not need this kind of place."

"I - " Quentin leaned back on his elbows, getting comfortable. "I mean, you're not the _first_ hot person to pay for sex, Eliot."

Eliot smiled as his shoulders slumped, most of the tension draining from his body. "I didn't mean it like that," he said, leaning back on his elbows to mimic Quentin's position. They were close, faces mere inches apart. Quentin couldn't help staring at Eliot's lips as he continued, "I just... I can get sex easily, and often, and I do, but..."

Quentin nodded slowly. "But?"

"This is so incredibly embarrassing," Eliot laughed, once, covering his face. "I want... more, I guess."

Quentin chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. "This is just se - "

"I know," Eliot interrupted, almost too fast. "But if I pay, you can pretend it's more, right? Just for a bit."

Quentin hummed, staring up at the ceiling. "I mean, yeah, of course. But what exactly do you mean by _more?_ " He glanced back at Eliot, raising an eyebrow. "Like do you want me to say I love you while sucking your dick or?"

Eliot barked out a sudden, sharp laugh and Quentin smiled despite himself. "No, I just - maybe we can, like, cuddle for a bit?" he asked, almost shyly. " _After_."

"Oh," Quentin sat up. "That's," his nose scrunched up, "unusual."

Eliot sat up, too, quick as a bullet. "I'm sorry - is that, like, weird? Too much?"

"No, no," Quentin waved him off. "Most of my clients are just... older dudes, probably married but it's not like they'd tell me that. And you can just..." he made a face. "You can feel the shame pouring off them, and the sex is usually quick and messy and they leave immediately like they can pretend the whole thing never happened, you know?"

Eliot nodded slowly. "That's..." he looked away. "Sorry?"

"It's a job," Quentin shrugged one shoulder. "Like anything else. Now," he reached out, placing a hand on Eliot's thigh. "Do you wanna get started?" he smiled, flirty and sweet.

Eliot swallowed thickly. "Uh. Yeah."

Without missing a beat, Quentin swung his leg over and straddled Eliot's lap. Eliot swallowed again, staring up at him with dark eyes. Quentin reached up, cupping his face. He squirmed a bit, and, yup, that was definitely Eliot's dick poking him in the thigh. Leaning forward, he pressed their lips together in a soft kiss. Eliot made a noise in the back of his throat, almost wounded, and slipped his arms around Quentin's waist, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepened quickly: Eliot licking almost desperately into Quentin's mouth, rolling his hips. Quentin sighed lightly, pulling back and nipping at Eliot's bottom lip.

"You're really - " Eliot took a shaky breath, grabbing Quentin's hips in an almost bruising grip.

Quentin pressed their foreheads together, grinding down. He hummed in reply, running his tongue along Eliot's swollen bottom lip before kissing the edge of his mouth. Gently, he pushed Eliot onto his back and climbed on top of him, tucking some hair behind his ear as he leaned down and kissed him again, desperate and messy.

He shifted a bit, grinding down again, but then -

"Wait, wait, wait," Eliot was squeezing his hips. Quentin pulled back. "I - I can't - I don't know if I can do this."

Quentin blinked. Once, twice. "The fuck?" he asked, heavy with emotion. This had, shockingly, never happened to him before. People occasionally showed regret at the realization they'd slept with him, sure, but that was always _after_ they had sex. Never _before_ \- they were always too eager. He sat up.

"I, I just - " Eliot leaned up on his elbows, staring at him with wide eyes. "Can we just - " he gulped " - talk?"

Quentin licked his lips, slow, thoughtfully. "This is not a fucking friendship service, Eliot," he said finally, climbing off him. "If you want to _talk_ , go to a fucking coffee shop or something."

Eliot sat up slowly. "I... know that, but I already paid and there's no getting refunds, like you said, so..."

"You - " Quentin sighed heavily, slumping against the headboard. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You seriously just want to _talk?_ " he asked, spitting the word out like it's incomprehensible. "Why?"

Eliot shrugged, a sharp, jerky movement. He joined Quentin slowly, hesitatingly, at the headboard. Their shoulders pressed together as he leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. "I don't know," he answered honestly.

"This is so motherfucking weird," Quentin sighed. He stared up at the ceiling, too. "But... you did pay, and I mean," he peeked at Eliot. "It's not as if I love fucking strangers, so, fine. We can talk."

Eliot smiled, just a hint. "Can't believe I'm so fucking lonely I'm paying to have a conversation with a stranger."

"Hmm," Quentin nudged him with his foot. "You could be paying for sex." He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "The horror."

Eliot gave a short, sharp laugh. "Yeah," he leaned his elbows on his knees, watching Quentin with a tiny smile. "Imagine that."


	4. Chapter 4

"Sooooo," Quentin drummed his fingers against his thigh. He had agreed to talking, yes, but there was one small problem with that: he was absolutely _terrible_ at small talk. Eliot looked up, a stray curl falling into his eyes, and he continued quickly, "how did you discover this place? It's usually - you know, only through word of mouth."

Eliot smiled tightly and looked down at his hands. "Uh, my friend - that's an understatement," he laughed lightly. "My best friend, Margo, she told me about you guys. She's been, uh, coming for a while." He cringed, laughing again. "And she was probably smart enough not to use her real name, so she's going to kill me for that."

"Hmm," Quentin pursed his lips thoughtfully. "What does she look like?"

Eliot glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "Beautiful," he said, honest. "Caramel skin might be most accurate, dark hair, dark eyes, too. She carries herself with almost overwhelming confidence."

"Let me think," Quentin stared up at the ceiling, squinting, then, "oh!" He grinned toothily. "You're talking about Bambi?"

Eliot blinked. Once, twice. "Fucking - " he laughed, shaking his head fondly. "How dare she tarnish my perfectly innocent nickname for her like that."

"I always thought it was cute," Quentin said, nudging Eliot with his foot. "And she does, ironically, look like very Bambi-like."

Eliot smiled softly. "She always visits this one girl... uh, I forgot what she called her."

"Vix?" Quentin supplied helpfully. "Yeah, it's so obvious they have a thing for each other."

Eliot smiled a bit wider, nodding. "Yes, Margo talks about her all the time. She's very angry she doesn't know her real name."

"Has she tried asking?" Quentin asked, bemused, "because oddly enough I think she'd tell her. I've never seen Vix have, like, an actual crush on a person." He scrunched his nose up, and Eliot couldn't help thinking: _cute_. "It's actually kind of weird, but Vix is a nice girl, so. You don't have to worry about them."

Eliot nodded slowly. "I'm her best friend, though," he added, nudging Quentin with his shoulder. "It's my job to worry."

He thought briefly of Julia. "Right."

For a long, long moment it was silent and while it wasn't uncomfortable exactly Eliot didn't like it. "So," he licked his lips slowly. "Why did you choose this job of all things?" Then, he cringed because that was probably not a question you asked a sex worker, huh? "I mean - I'm not judging or - or anything like that," he quickly added.

Quentin peeked at him, eyes surprisingly soft. "Calm down." He laughed, once. "I - I didn't choose this, really. I have a best friend, too." He adjusted a bit, pulling his knees up to his chest. "We call her Goddess here - " Eliot raised an eyebrow " - listen, she is gorgeous. Anyway, we have only ever really had each other."

"I can relate with that," Eliot said quietly.

Quentin smiled sadly, shrugging. "The only other good thing in my life at the time was my dad, but when he died it was... everything started to unravel. So me and her got an apartment in the city and we both got jobs but they just - they weren't paying enough, you know? And we were about to be homeless - literally - when Goddess befriended this girl."

Eliot listened silently, nodding.

"She was already working here and she told us about this place and the money we could make... I wasn't really interested, but Goddess was and I - I didn't want to let her to do this alone, so I said fuck it and now - " he shrugged, a sharp, jerky movement. "It's just not easy getting out of this business, I guess."

Eliot touched his arm gently. "I'm sorry?"

Quentin laughed sharply. "No need for that. It's a job at the end of the day. I'm grateful. I'm even able to afford my own place now. As much as you love your best friend, it's nice to have your own place, too."

"But you are..." Eliot swallowed, lowering his voice. "You're able to leave if you want, right?"

Quentin blinked, then, nodded quickly. "Yes, yes, fuck, I'm not like - you know. Some people are, and that's fucking gross, but no, no. I've already tried quitting so many times... things just never, you know."

Eliot nodded slowly, tilting his head curiously. "How much do you make here?"

"I - " Quentin squinted.

Eliot looked away, patting his thighs. "Right, right, that's probably a weird thing to ask, hmm?"

"A little," Quentin agreed, but thankfully he sounded more amused than anything. "Listen, are you sure you don't want, like, I don't know, a handjob or something?" he raised an eyebrow. "We still have like forty five minutes left."

Eliot licked his lips, glancing at him almost shyly. "I'm just - this is weird. I'm not sure I could even..."

"You were _definitely_ hard when I was in your lap," Quentin said teasingly. "But I get it. We don't have to."

Eliot flushed and nodded curtly. "Right, well. You _are_  very gorgeous."

Quentin had, of course, been called many things, but gorgeous wasn't one of them. Hot, sexy, alluring, maybe, but _gorgeous?_ He laughed softly, shaking his head as he looked away. "You're so fucking weird," he muttered. "Listen, what exactly about this is turning you off?"

"I... don't know?" Eliot answered honestly. "It's just... you don't want to be here. I feel - "

Quentin turned, staring intensely. "It's a job. It's not like you're a disgusting specimen of the human race, Eliot. Actually, you're one of the only decent looking clients I've ever had." He paused, smiling a bit. "Don't tell them that, okay? Anyway, I don't mind doing what you want. Actually, I feel more uncomfortable... doing this - " he gestured between them. "Pretending like this is something it isn't."

"Right, of course," Eliot said quietly. "I'm sorry." Then, he was standing up and Quentin scrambled to grab his arm -- _"what?"_ \-- but he just avoided him gracefully. "I'm sorry for wasting your time."

Quentin's mouth fell open. "You're - you're leaving?" he asked disbelievingly.

Eliot shrugged once. "Have a good day, Q."

He could only watch as he disappeared out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him with a resounding thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im glad a few of u guys are enjoying this lil side project of mine!!   
> what's gonna happen next~~


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